


Headache

by Multiduel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Parental Varric Tethras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:29:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25532884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiduel/pseuds/Multiduel
Summary: As the sun dipped below the mountains around Skyhold marking the end of the second day since Varric had laid eyes on the boy, the dwarf felt the beginnings of concern fidget in the pit of his stomach.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Headache

It wasn’t unusual for Cole to wander off. Varric often likened him to a puppy, easily distracted, often pulled off in a new direction if he “sensed” something was amiss.These abances could last anywhere between a few minutes to a couple of hours. He would eventually reappear, usually when everyone had gathered in the tavern for a game of Wicken Grace or in the stables to pet the horses. However as the sun dipped below the mountains around Skyhold marking the end of the second day since Varric had laid eyes on the boy, the dwarf felt the beginnings of concern fidget in the pit of his stomach. He was sitting in his usual booth in the corner of the tavern, pen in hand, notebook open to a blank page. He’d been staring at the page for a good hour, his mind only half on his writings. It wasn’t that he lacked anything good to write about, there was a long list of recent events he wanted to commit to paper. The run in with the Grey Wardens and Erimond in the Western Approach. The fight with the wyvern by the oasis. Not to mention he wanted to follow up on the rumours of the Inquisitors apparent love interest. 

Varric brought the tip of his pen down to the page again, only to flick his gaze up towards the tavern door for seemingly the hundredth time that evening. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering, it wasn’t like Cole ever used the door anyway, he was more prone to appearing already seated at the table or perched on top of the bar till someone yelled at him to get down. He dropped his pen to the table with a groan and ran his hands over his face.

“Tough day?”

Varric removed his hands and looked up. The Inquisitor was leaning against his table, arms folded across his chest, eyebrow quirked in amusement. It always surprised Varric how silently the elf seemed to be able to move when he wanted to, an ability he often utilized whenever a war table meeting dragged on longer than the man’s attention span did. The dwarf sat back in his seat and closed his notebook giving a small nod in the Heralds direction.

“You’re going to give an old man a heart attack one of these days Tipsy.”

The Inquisitor grinned before depositing himself in the seat opposite the writer without waiting to be invited and placed both his elbows on the table. He looked between the closed notebook to Varric then back again. 

“You alright?”

Varrc gave a half hearted shrug, then a nod. The elf raised an eyebrow again.

“You sure? Because you keep looking at the door like you expect it to walk over and bite you.”

Varric huffed out a small chuckle.

“With all the weird magic shit that happens to you, I wouldn't be completely surprised if it did.”

The Inquisitor smirked and snatched Varrics’ untouched drink from where it had been abandoned on the table, downing half the contents in one go before speaking again.

“Is it Cole?”

Varric’s head snapped up at the mention of the spirit, frowning a little. 

“How did you know?”

He was given a shrug and a knowing smirk from behind the tankard as the rest of the drink vanished down the elf’s throat. Varric picked at the edge of the old wooden table, throwing yet another glance over at the tavern door as it opened

“I just haven’t seen him for a while.”

The Inquisitor frowned as he placed the now empty tankard back on the table, thinking to himself. 

“Now that you mention it, I don’t recall seeing him today either.”

He shrugged and lent back in his chair, swinging his legs up so his feet rested on the table.

“Not that I’m likely to, with Cullen boring everyone to tears in the war room. If Cole has any sense, he’ll stay out of there.” 

He lent his head against the top of the chair and closed his eyes. Varric tucked his notebook into his coat pocket, then picked up his pen.

“Long meeting was it?”

The Herald smirked but didn’t open his eyes. 

“It’s still going, I just got bored.”

Varric opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by the flutter of robes as Dorian swept up to the table. 

“I swear to Andraste, someone needs to tell Blackwall about baths, he smells worse than the horses do.”

Much like Tipsy, he sat himself down without invitation, sliding over to sit next to the elf who still didn’t look up but was grinning.Varric spun his pen in his fingers, amused at the mage's irritation.

“Not everyone can be plucked and shiny like you Sparkler.”

Dorian bristled, and looked vaguely insulted.

“I am not _plucked_ and I stand to reason that there should be no exceptions to following basic hygiene.”

He folded his arms and huffed in his seat. He eyed the Inquisitor who seemed to have dozed off then back at Varric.

“Problem?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Dorian rolled his eyes, inspecting the empty tankard on the table to see if any of its contents remained.

“At a guess, I’d say it’ll be because you look like someone just told you they’d broken Bianca.”

Varric gave a small laugh. Dorian gave a disappointed grunt when he found the tankard to be empty. The Inquisitor suddenly spoke causing the two men to jump. 

“Papa Varric is worried about Cole.”

Varric scowled at him and Doiran gave a half hearted shrug. 

“He’s weird and reads people's minds, I thought we’d gotten used to that by now.” 

Varric shook his head.

“Not that, I just haven’t seen him for a while.”

Dorian shrugged again.

“Off causing trouble probably. He doesn’t usually wander far right?”

It was Varric’s turn to shrug. Dorian dropped the empty tankard onto the table with a clatter and stood. 

“I’d try the kitchens, I’m sure I overheard the cook say something about things vanishing, I’ll bet it’s either Cole or Sera.” 

He smoothed out his robes with one hand and began to move away towards the bar.

“Now, if I don’t get a drink soon I will _perish_.” 

Tipsy sat up suddenly at the prospect of a drink, and moved off to follow the mage. 

Varric watched them go, making a mental note to question the two of them on the rumours that had begun to circulate regarding the mages relationship with one another. Finally slipping his pen into his coat pocket he pushed himself up from his seat, electing to not pay for the drink he didn't actually get to consume himself and set a brisk walk out the tavern door.

He breathed in the fresh cold mountain air, blinking against the light. Even with the sun now mostly hidden from view, it was still significantly brighter than it had been inside, a testament to how dingy the little building really was. All around him people rushed about, keen to finish up their jobs for the day before it became too dark to do so. Even in the evening, the castle was still full of life. The dwarf stuck his hands in his pockets and set a course for the Skyhold kitchens. He doubted Cole would still be there if he had been at all, but it was as good a place to start as any. Cole could be literally anywhere in the castle, and if he didn’t want to be found, it was unlikely Varric would be able to do so. Still, Varric doubted he would be able to shift the uneasiness still resting in his gut if he didn’t at least try and look for the boy. 

*

“And another thing! You can tell that Magister if I catch him in my wine cellar once more, I’ll take his fingers, I mean it!”

Varric was backing slowly out of the door as the cook ranted and raved about the kitchen, brandishing a large butchers knife. He’d made the mistake of questioning the woman if she’d seen any sign of Cole recently, which had just sent her into a heated rant about “unwelcome” people in her kitchen. Varric raised his hands in surrender as he edged closer to the door. 

“And that elven girl! Always up in the rafters! Taking things from-“ 

Varric quickly shut the door behind him, though he could still hear the cook shouting on the other side. He breathed a small sigh of relief. He’d been in there long enough that the sky had gone dark, the stars glowing bright enough to rival the breach. A clatter broke the quiet night air followed by a loud series of curses. A light was on inside the stables in front of him, and he could make out the shadow of someone moving about inside. Moving quickly over, he spotted Blackwall couched, picking up small bits of wood that were scattered across the barn floor. Varric leaned against the doorway and watched him.

“Is this some sort of Grey Warden training exercise?” 

Blackwall jumped slightly but tried to cover it with a cough. He straightened up and put the bits of wood on a nearby table. 

“If you’ve come to comment on my cleaning habits, Dorian has already covered it.”

Varric shook his head and chuckled. 

“So I heard.”

Blackwall continued to potter about the table, moving the various woodworking tools he kept there while muttering under his breath. Varric watched him for a moment, wondering if all wardens kept hobbies. The ones he had known never had. Well, Anders kept his clinic, and had a strange affiliation towards cats. His thinking was interrupted by Blackwall who had turned to see him still standing in the doorway.

“Did you need something Varric?”

The dwarf shook his head.

“Not really, I was just looking for Cole, I haven't seen him since yesterday.”

Blackwall, nodded. 

“He was here this morning, I caught him up in the loft.”

The warrior pointed up towards the upper level of the barn. Varric looked up with a small frown.

“What was he doing up there?”

Blackwall shrugged and went back to his tools, beginning to put them away in a shabby wooden chest by his feet.

“Hell if I know. I thought he was spying on me again, but he was just crouched in the corner with his hands over his ears.”

Varric felt the knot in his gut tighten.

“Was he alright? What did he say?”

Blackwall seemed annoyed at the questions and just shrugged. 

“I didn’t ask.”

Varric scowled.

“Did you at least see where he went?”

Blackwall didn’t answer, keeping his back pointed at the dwarf. Varric rolled his eyes and turned to walk out of the barn. 

“Ever helpful, thank you.”

He walked until he stood in the center of the lower courtyard and ran a hand through his hair. Now what? If Cole was upset, he would have retreated to somewhere quiet, somewhere he could be away from everyone's thoughts. Unfortunately Skyhold being the size that it was, it could take days for Varric to search the whole castle. Even then there could easily be a hundred different hidden rooms that he’d never find. His legs ached at the thought of wandering the halls looking for a spirit that had been known to make himself completely invisible if he so chose. Varric groaned and ran a hand through his hair again. This was going to be a long night.

*

The sun was just beginning to peak its head over the mountains by the time Varric dragged himself up the steps towards his quarters. He’d been looking all night, searching every room he could get into, including a few that were ‘technically’ out of bounds. He’d questioned a few of the guards and even had a brief run in with a cross looking Cassandra. 

“I trust you’re skulking around for a good reason dwarf.”

Varric had put a hand on his heart with mock offence.

“Come now Seeker, when have I ever given you reason not to trust me?”

He could still feel the glare she had burned into the back of his head as he’d hurried away. Solas had been about as useful as a broken arrow, beginning a lecture on spirit magic that Varric had been all too keen to walk away from. 

He reached his door and pushed his way inside. Maker, he hoped Tipsy didn’t need him for anything today. He shrugged off his coat and threw it over the back of his armchair moving over to the firepit with the intention of warming the room up a bit. Something shifted in the room behind him and he jumped a mile in the air. Instinctively he grabbed Bianca from where he had left her by the door and aimed her at his bed. He edged slowly around the room, squinting into the semi darkness. Something shifted again from under his bed. Varric narrowed his eyes and inched closer, his finger lingering on the crossbow's trigger. He was about a meter away when he noticed the edge of a familiar broad brimmed hat peeking out from under the bed. He dropped Bianca immediately.

“Cole?”

A pair of pale eyes peered out from where the spirit was hiding, he looked up at Varric but didn’t seem inclined to leave. Varric walked over and crouched down. 

“How did you even get under there?”

The spirit simply whimpered, curling up on himself against the floor. Varric reached under and tried to coax him out. 

“Come on Kid, that can’t be comfortable. Come out.”

Cole buried his face into the brim of his hat. Varric felt a strange mixture of relief that Cole was no longer missing coupled with the fear still eating away at him. He stood to light some candles around the room so he could see better before returning to the bed and kneeling down. 

“Cole, I can’t read minds like you can, you gotta work with me here.”

The spirit didn’t move. Varric ran a hand through his hair and looked around the room desperately for something to help. He quickly got up and grabbed the old blanket from off the armchair. He knelt down by the bed again and held the blanket open. 

Cole shifted and reluctantly began to crawl out from his hiding place. He stayed on the floor, but sat up, leaning back against the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest. He allowed Varric to drape the blanket around his skinny frame, bringing his hands up to his head, then pressing them firmly over his ears. Varric sat next to him, putting one hand on the boy's shoulder. 

“Cole? Kid? You in there?”

Cole kept his hands over his ears, rocking himself slightly.

“Hurts.”

Varric tried to suppress the rising panic in his chest. He moved so he was kneeling directly in front of the boy, both hands on either shoulder.

“What’s hurting kiddo?” 

He tried to take the boys hands away, but Cole gripped tighter, digging his nails into the sides of his head. Varric placed his hands over Coles’.

“Does your head hurt?”

Cole managed a rather miserable nod. Varric sighed. Cole had complained before about his abilities causing him headaches but it usually only lasted as long as he was using them. He made a mental note to question Solas later on the possibility of Cole’s powers causing long term damage. Cole gave a small groan and pressed his head into his knees. Varric felt his heart flutter and tried to empty his mind as best he could. He wasn’t sure if it would make any difference but he didn’t want to risk his thoughts adding to the boy's pain. He tried again to pry the spirits hands away more firmly. 

“Alright Kid, I can help but you’ve gotta get up for me okay?”

Varric stood and tried to pull Cole to his feet. The boy resisted for a moment but eventually relented and allowed himself to be dragged up. He stood with his shoulders hunched, trying to pull his hands out of Varric's grip so he could place them against his head again. Varric gave him a gentle push so he sat back on the edge of the dwarfs bed then stretched up and plucked the hat off the top of the boys’ head. Cole didn’t try and stop him which, if Varric wasn’t worried already, would have been cause for concern. 

“Lie down.”

Cole paused but did as he was told. Varric climbed up onto the bed and pulled one of the pillows down from the top end. He crossed his legs and placed the pillow over his lap, gesturing at Cole to put his head on it. Cole looked a little doubtful but the pain in his head had made him amenable so he did as was requested. Cole lay on his back, facing up towards the ceiling, his arms stiffly at his sides. Varric reached forward and placed his fingers against Coles temples, pressing with small, varying amounts of pressure trying to mimic the pattern he remembered from when someone used to do this for him. 

“I know this sounds stupid, but try not to think about it, it’ll only make it worse.”

Varric wished he had some ice or anything cold, but he was reluctant to leave and fetch something in case Cole vanished again. He continued the motions with his fingers, trying to relieve the pain enough so that the boy could calm a little. Cole let out a small grunt but seemed to relax a fraction. Varric took this as a good sign and continued. 

“Say Kid, did I ever tell you about the time Hawke set the Hanged Man on fire? Aveline was so angry, you could see the steam coming out of her ears.”

Varric continued to ramble for a while, regaling stories from his years with Hawke that hadn’t made it into his book and some of his adventures with the merchants guild. He wasn’t sure how much time passed but eventually Cole seemed to fall asleep or whatever it was spirits did. Varric stayed where he was, looking down at the boy in his lap, the fear had gone from his gut but had been replaced by a dull yet familiar ache in his chest. 

*


End file.
